


The Destiel Journal

by wingedcastielpie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Lores, M/M, Pictures, Romance, various drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4446116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedcastielpie/pseuds/wingedcastielpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the journal that collects various stories about Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entry no.1: Opia

Disclaimer ** _: I do not own Supernatural. If it’s mine, Destiel’s already on the roll, and they’re beating some other shit up._**

* * *

  **Entry #1:** Opia

**: noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.**

* * *

 

   Dean never knew if he hated it when Cas would stare at him in the eye, far too longer than what is required. He never really knew if he loved it either. 

   Sometimes, it would get creepy. Especially when he was doing something, such as cleaning a gun, or lying on the bed. If the angel can have laser beams shooting out of his eyes from all the intensity he can emit, he's pretty sure he was a toast by now.

   Sometimes, he felt like he had done something really stupid. There were times where he would be 'reading' _Busty Asian Beauties_ while Cas was in the room, and while he's trying to get all hot, or to build a denim tent using his manpole, he fucking can't, because _damn it_ , Cas was just staring at his green, green eyes, clearly stating that looking at pictures of chicks' boobs are unbearable and it would cost him his soul back to Hell.

   And then, there were other times that… He felt right at home.

   Cas' eyes looked almost like his mother's eyes. All blue and filled with so much emotion, that sometimes felt too private and intense, even for a guy who was being stared at by so many chicks who stared almost alike, as how Cas did.

   His eyes and stare would be there for him, when he needed someone to talk to. When he needed someone to remind him the purpose of his life. When he needed someone to tell to not _fucking_ give up. When he found himself craving for Castiel’s warmth and scent and presence. And when he found himself hating the son of a bitch for believing in him. For having _faith_ in him.

   Castiel might not have said the words, but with the way he was staring… It explained _everything_.

   That stare made Dean Winchester weak at the knees, and made him feel like he was the only thing in the world that ever mattered, chick flick, or not. And, because of those intense blue eyes, he felt more vulnerable than he have ever been.


	2. Entry no.2: Paper Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean never really admitted it to anyone but, he secretly took pictures of a certain angel of the Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little fic is inspired by Ed Sheeran's a.ma.zing. song "Photograph". I hope you like it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but, the idea itself.  
> Warning: Unbeta-ed.

**Entry #2:** Paper Memories

* * *

 

Dean opened his eyes. It was dark, but not too dark that he can't see anything. The clock beside the bed said _5: 24 am_ , and the dawn light washed over the motel floor. He twisted his body and looked at the other bed in the room with Sam's silhouette in it.

Sometimes, he still remember the times where Sam would run off with Ruby, and even if demon bitch was long gone, Dean was still afraid that the younger Winchester would choose someone else over him. So, he half-expected that Sam was gone, gone, gone away without a word of affirmation if he was fine.

What Dean didn’t expect though was to see an angel of the Lord passed out on the floor, the trench coat acting as his bed sheets for his hard, tiled and cold bed. He noticed that the angel didn’t have his shoes, and there was nothing in Castiel’s appearance that seemed wrong.

He raised his eyebrows and mouthed a soft ‘what?’. He thought angels don't need to sleep?

Besides, since when was Cas here, anyway? Was he really asleep? He looked so damn peaceful, his body relaxed and his mouth slightly open as he exhaled softly. But, the floor would've been a son of a bitch in the back when morning comes.

Smiling softly, Dean reached for his cellphone on the night side table and snapped a picture of Castiel. He thought upon making it as his wallpaper, but he reminded himself that _that_ would've been weird. It's not like he… You know… Cas as his that _that_ … Or something.

Whatever. He should be waking up Cas anyway.

The Winchester did just that, reasoned out to a tired Castiel that he was good and he was ‘ _gonna buy a pie, and some coffee, since Sam here was big enough to be a moose, and knocked over my cup yesterday_.’. Cas barely had resistance left, and after thirty seconds of reasoning out on his part, he flopped down on the bed.

Dean chuckled. Cas was curled up like a ball, his trench coat acting as his huge bear, or something. The pillow shaped around his head, and Dean grabbed the comforter and tucked it under the angel's chin. He thought again about snapping another picture of the angel, and before he can talk himself into not doing it, he snapped another picture.

 

***

 

The second time it happened, Dean and Cas were hanging out in a diner. Sam went to the library to haul some books about  _Manananggal_ lore— a monster that was only found in the Philippines. The team was having difficulty chasing after the monster since the fucker can detach half of its body, produce bat-like wings and fly around to eat fetuses and babies in the town's general hospital. This monster was certainly one that can make into Dean's nightmares when he was five.

Dean ordered a cheeseburger deluxe, and Castiel had also ordered the same, reasoning out to Dean's questions that “Dean, this vessel is only a human one, and for it to function properly, I must supply it with food every now, and then. Besides, I… I like cheeseburgers.”

“Awesome,” Dean grinned in reply.

The two were talking about Castiel’s criticism of Dante's Inferno, when a kid from the booth behind Cas's chair slipped beside Cas. The little boy landed on his butt and started crying. The teenage girl who was busy flirting with a boy around her age suddenly stood up and panicked. It was obvious that the girl was the kid's babysitter, and she's doing a poor job of taking care of a two-years old child.

Dean frowned in annoyance to the girl and glared at her, as she fussed over the kid—who was struggling to get away.

“No, Dean— Stop! Ughhh, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Dean, come on, kid make this easier for me, please?” The girl complained. “Ughgg, I knew babysitting's such a bad idea. Whiny brats. Come _on,_ Dean! You're embarrassing me. You know I'm only after the money!”

Dean raised both of his eyebrows at the crying boy. “Well, ain't that shady.”

 What were the odds of seeing a kid with blonde-brunette hair and green eyes named Dean?

Dean the Winchester made a weirded-out face.

Cas caught Dean the Winchester's attention when the angel stood up—his body stiff with tension and his face fixed with anger. He strolled towards the girl's chair, and Dean was horrified that the angel's wrath may rain down on the girl for hurting Dean.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Dean the kid.’ He rephrased mentally.

“Cas, wai—” Dean stopped short when Cas gently snatched the kid from the teenager's arms— expecting the girl to freak out but instead, she sighed in relief and rolled her eyes.

“Finally, ” she groaned. The boy she was flirting it whispered to her, and the girl did the annoying giggle Dean the Winchester was chagrined of.

Cas slipped into his chair with Dean the kid on his lap, and then, surprised Dean the Winchester when Cas hummed a low tune of a song he didn't know of. The kid immediately stopped crying and stared at the angel with wonder. Cas looked back at the kid—his eyes soft and his lips turned into a gentle curve.

‘Wow,’ Dean thought. Before he can register what he was doing, Dean the Winchester pulled out his phone and took a picture.

Dean felt pretty smug for having a candid shot of Cas.

The Winchester looked up when he heard the child laughing. It turned out that Cas was gently running his fingertips on the back of the kid's neck—which seemed to be a ticklish spot for the boy—causing the kid to giggle and shrieked of laughter.

“You're good.” Dean commented.

The angel looked up and smiled. “Before… Before I went down to hell and saved you, the job assigned to me was to take care of fledglings. I was assigned to be responsible for Smandriel—teach him to fly, to use his “mojo” and… The rules of Heaven.”

The hunter “Hmm”, breathed in and sighed happily away. ‘Damn, Cas looks good with the whole father image. ’

 

***

 

The third one was taken when Cas was holding up a toothbrush. Dean was teaching Cas how to brush his teeth, without really knowing why Cas wanted to learn. He shrugged it off as curiousity, seeing as the angel didn’t really need simple human stuff as toothpaste and toothbrush to clean his body, and there's nothing really about it that can help them solve a case— this time it was another demon trying to possess people into making half-breeds.

They finally located the demon, and was currently in the bunker's dungeon with Sam interrogating the bitch like a pro. Which they are… professional in interrogating, he meant.

Dean came back to the bathroom with towels, only to find out that there was toothpaste… everywhere. On the floor, on the mirror, in Cas's clothes, in the sink, heck even in the angel's hair.

“Dean,” Cas sighed. “This red… Gel wasn’t cooperating.”

Dean wasn’t even listening anymore, he was just laughing, trying to support his shaking body against the door frame.

“Cas, I—” Then, Dean was lost in McLaughland. Cas can smite angels and demons, take on Leviathans, went to Hell twice and to Purgatory, called Michael ‘assbutt’, rebelled against Heaven for humanity, and pretty much all the things an average angel can do. And yet, here he was defeated by _toothpaste_.

“Oh, man— sta-stay. I'm gonna take a pic.” Dean happily sighed and pulled out his phone and opened the app. Then, he saw Castiel's small pout, accompanying with a look alike with that of a petulant child who wanted to be taken seriously.

“Hey, guys—” Sam suddenly appeared from the door frame. “There's— what happened here?”

“Sam, I don't... Understand how humorous this situation is.”

 

***

 

Dean found the crowds in the mall annoying, and yet, there seemed to be nothing that can stop Dean from smiling and whistling _Here Comes The Sun_ by The Beatles. It was not the usual classic songs he was used to sing and hum to, but he can make an exception today.

In his hands were four pictures of an angel that brings out a picturesque smile in his face. No one knew that he'd place them under his pillow, together with his gun because he placed them there, subconsciously knowing that losing Castiel would be the end of his world. No one mentioned anything about it when they saw him glancing at them in the middle of a difficult hunt, so he can never forget whom he was fighting for. No one dared to even touch them, for the fear of a certain Dean Winchester chasing after their tails.

Because for him, they weren't just a bunch of colors to make a picture. To him, they were paper memories that reminded him of the angel that was always by his side, no matter how depressing or funny the situation was.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! I'll post up the second entry as soon as I can!


End file.
